Learning to drive the Lotus Esprit the hard (but fun) way

What time is it again? Everything was against me this morning, it'd been a long day yesterday with little sleep the night before and a painful haul to Starbucks down at Crystal Cove in the early morning to see the car show and chat with anyone that was there.

... have you guys heard legends of Brit roundabouts? It's kind of like a an intersection, and the idea is that everyone just gives way one way and we all get along and on our way. That's the idea, but instead they just tend to turn into high speed orbiting car pools of death.

So yes, I'm running low on sleep and a few coffees in this morning, so I hear you ask what's the problem? Well you have to put this in perspective, I'm British (sorry), over six feet in height, not exactly slim, wearing huge walking shoes, I've never driven in the USA before, I have difficulty getting into an Esprit as a passenger and I've just been handed the keys to a good friend's pride and joy for the drive today (an irreplaceable '25th Anniversary' edition 2002 Esprit in azure blue), and unsurprisingly it's a car that I'd quite like to return in one piece. Just for anyone that's keeping score at this point, the gearbox is on the wrong side of the car, I don't easily fit in the car, I'm wearing about the least tactile shoes I own short of my bike boots, my size 11 1/2 feet don't fit too well in the foot well, I'm on the wrong side of the car, driving on the wrong side of the road in a foreign nation, with what to me are the weirdest driving laws known to man. Take for example these circular road type things that we have in the UK; have you guys heard legends of British roundabouts? It's like a intersection, and the idea is that everyone just gives way one way and we all get along and on our way. That's the idea, but instead they just tend to turn into high speed orbiting car pools of death.

Enough of the rambling stuff though back to the driving experience. I've been a passenger in the Esprit more than once before this, so I am fairly well aware of the driving "knacks" that an owner has to acquire if he/she wishes to keep their front valance attached to the front of the car where it should be and not under the front wheels. I have to say that I was somewhat curious as to what was going on when we approached a turn off and made a manic bee-line for the RHS curb.

Being a "passenger apprentice driver" is much like getting a lift from someone to somewhere, you remember the drive to your destination but didn't quite take in everything you need to replicate the drive on your own without assistance from a few signs, a map or a GPS unit.

All this adds up to a very wide eyed British guy staring at the shiny new car in front of him on a warm Californian at 0-dark-thirty in the morning pondering as to how he's going to get his arse into the driving seat without pulling muscles that God never intended to bend in that fashion.

You want me to get my bum in that? Getting my bulk into a sports car is a challenge and one that I'm very happy to say that I have mastered now. The process is such: first open the door, (if the handle doesn't work chances are that it's locked so use the key - sounds obvious but it got me the first time), now gently open the door to its widest extent. With the door open you can now see the driver's seat, for anyone that's short sighted, it's the blurry looking speck in the distance towards the ground. Now here's where it gets tricky, stand sideways to the car between the door and the seat and lower your bum towards the seat. Now carefully swing your right leg into the driver's foot well. At this point you're mostly in, but your left leg is still outside the car and even with the seat all the way back there's not quite enough room to get my other foot in easily. The best way I found is to bend my left knee, and then grab my shoe toe with my left arm pulling my foot towards my body, bringing my foot in over the door sill next to the door speaker and into the foot well careful not to mark the leather dashboard next to the steering wheel as I get my darned great boats where they should be. If you've followed these steps to the letter you're now inside the Lotus. If you're sitting in some form of weird karma-sutra position in the driver's seat instead then you've obviously not quite followed what I was on about and I've no idea what you do to get out of that one, sorry.

Well that's the first challenge out the way. After you’ve done it about 4-6 times you'll be as good as me at replicating the manoeuvre but I'll bet you a breakfast down at Coco's that you'll still feel a plonker getting in a car in this fashion. Short of hoisting myself in through the sunroof I can't think of any other way to go about it.

Orientation: Now you're in have a look at the control set. Cheap sunglasses aren't recommended as they make it hard to read the dashboard dials and lights. Get some Oakleys and chuck the cheap ten dollar Newport Beach specials in the bin. Most Lotus owners remove the hideous GM parts bin extravaganza steering wheel and replace it with something that looks a bit more befitting of a sports car as the original 2000-2004 wheel looks like it was stolen out of a Taurus (or Mondeo in the UK). If you're looking at a third party wheel then be happy as you can now see the dash readouts properly. There are four main dials behind the wheel, the speedometer, rev counter, fuel gauge, and engine temperature. There's a heap of warning lights there too. If anything other than the parking brake light stays on after ignition then engage panic mode. In the centre column there's an array of switches covering, lights, hazards, heated rear windscreen, a climate control unit with air conditioning, and a head unit. Behind the steering wheel there are two control levers, one for lights and indicators the other for the wiper/washer set. Tweak the mirrors so you can see down both sides of the car and make sure that the rear view mirror is pointing out the pill-box rear view.

Rear view in the mirrors is good for a sports car, but don't back it on mirrors unless you're either a master of Zen or just feeling confident. I'd highly recommend a mixture of mirrors and 180 degree neck turning.

For me there are a few items that I find superfluous. Firstly there are the sun visors. Originally intended to cut out glare and direct sun from the driver's eyes they do nothing for me apart from obscure 99.9995% of the road. All I can see with the thing down is the bonnet and a small strip of tarmac in front of me, which is just enough vision to see fluffy the neighbour’s cat (hopefully not in the hands of the neighbour) bounce up the bonnet and over the car. The second item I've never used is the mint condition Alpine head unit (that's a CD/radio set to anyone that doesn't speak 'car'). Let’s face it, you're driving a gorgeous blue sports car with a raw v8 engine four inches behind your head, why on earth do you want to listen to anything else other than the hum from the exhaust? (Okay so Bohemian Rhapsody does tempt me).

With the brakes off we're away! ..well for 6 feet.

It’s start-up time: The first time you crank the Esprit over to start it just remember one thing, you turn the key and hold it there until the engine catches. The Lotus V8 isn't like a daily driver motor and takes a bit to wind up - don't worry you'll hear the engine catch and start, as will most people in the local neighbourhood.

After you stop grinning madly, it's time to release the handbrake and drive off. The handbrake is down by your left shin and not exactly the easiest item to reach, it's certainly not something I'd grab in an emergency as should the air bad go off my head would disappear through the sunroof.

With the brakes off we're away! ..well for 6 feet. Yup I stalled it. You've got to rev these puppies and you need at least 1500-2000 revs to move off either forwards or backwards. Clutch play is something you just get used to, and after a few minutes it's almost second nature. There's a strong return spring on the pedals, so don't worry about the stretching sound that sounds like a garage door return spring and the firm response, it's all part of a well tuned British sports car package.

Starting the car up for the second time the first obstacle to negotiate is the treacherous cavern that is the water channel at a tiny neighbourhood set of cross-roads. With the ground clearance only slightly more than that of an obese ferret the front-end of the Esprit does tend to rub on just about any lateral undulation in the road. In the US water channels and road camber are gargantuan in comparison to the UK so you have to be careful how you drive. This particular model I'm driving has a flexible plastic lower strip as opposed to the earlier carbon fibre lower board. Personally I think the rubber strip is a wonderful idea; it's about an inch long and hangs down from the front wing as is intended to aid aerodynamics at over 100mph, not that you’d ever go that fast on normal roads (much). As soon as it rubs you can hear it against the tarmac or concrete which is a handy warning sign for the driver. If you take an uneven turn off too tight and the front rubs too much you know to back off as you're probably going to drive the front itself into the ground and damage it. Most intersecting road joins are taken at an angle so that any change in gradient is met slowly at 45 degrees or so.

We’ve got a convoy! So I’m off and away following my buddy down to the early morning car meet, we’re driving down the local roads and hey this is kinda fun, oops time for second gear, and yup time to start braking I guess for this junction. Life is slightly easier for me as I’m following someone that knows the way so I can follow his well trodden lines through the urban minefield of speed bumps and potholes. Despite the fact that the distance from the back gate to the first major junction is only a block it seemed like an eternity. I only made it into third gear, and the primary thought going through my mind was “Don’t blooming screw up”. I think I was chatting to my passenger for the journey, but for the life of me I can’t remember what I waffled on about. Perhaps I dreamt the conversation and simply dribbled while I drove; I really don’t know but I’m sure I had a broad smile on my face.

After the first couple of miles I’m beginning to calm down a bit and get into the flow of things some more. My neck is no longer stiff and the veins on my forehead have gone down and I can begin to enjoy the ride some more.

The first thing I noticed was that the first to second gear traversal is for what of a better word “clunky”. All other gear changes are a smooth pop between the two, and I found that the first shift was made better by double declutching, but only if there was time to do so. As this is a friend’s car I’m treating the car with respect, but even so it’s hard to resist the urge to race through the gears. The car feels like it was built to move, it’s at its natural state at speed, it needs to move and move fast.

Pulling swiftly into the space I understand what sports brakes do for a car like this and worryingly find that my trousers are now riding up into the unknown thanks to the combination of hot weather and leather seats. Learning to drive performance cars is getting painful.

Like I said, I’m following a friend of mine on the morning journey as he knows the way, so as you can imagine I’m somewhat perturbed to see him pull a u-turn and for me to pass him at some speed as a blurred flash in the other direction. The word “bugger” comes to mind at this point, 1-0 against the British guy. For the first time in the US I have to pull a u-turn across this four lane local road I’m on, so looking for a central turning area I stick on the left turn indicators and watch my mirrors for a suitable space. Now is it me, or do American SUV drivers speed up the second they see flashing orange lights? Like moths are to a light bulb, I’m suddenly swarmed by a couple of GMC and Chevrolet trucks. I tell you it’s scary to see nothing but bumper and rotating road wheel in your side mirror. Spotting a space I put my foot down and accelerate into it pulling left into the gap and then realising I’m almost on top of the turning area in the centre. Pulling swiftly into the space I understand what sports brakes do for a car like this and worryingly find that my trousers are no riding up into the unknown thanks to the combination of hot weather and leather seats. Learning to drive performance cars is getting painful and more colourful British metaphors are springing to mind.

The plan: I nearly forgot the plan, and the reason for this great excursion. Today all the local Lotus guys are going for a drive up to the rather picturesque Live Oak canyon, Chris was set to drive the Tahoe (it's a big white 4x4), with Chris sitting in the back with the tailgate up taking photos of us all as we hauled past him at various points en route. I should point out that there are two separate guys called 'Chris', and that people in California normally do have different names. As there was a spare Esprit I got the other set of keys, and we alternated who drove which on the way there and back.

First things first though.. I'm low on go-go juice.

Refueling: Fate is set to confuse the average newbie Lotus driver. So how do you confuse an Englishman in the OC? It's really easy actually you just put two fuel cap flip covers on a car, one on either side, and then hide the fuel cap under just one of them. Apparently on the British version there's two fuel tanks but for our American buddies we chose to make it simpler yet still retain one dummy fuel cap cover. For future reference the fuel cap is on the left.

But wait there's more! Not content with some of the most supercar unfriendly roads in existence for some reason there's a need to add speed bumps around every access side to the fuel station. I'm not stupid either and want to leave the front valence where it is, so wait a few yards back from the access road and hollered to the Esprit in front to ask for some flight crew style guidance over the veritable minefield of humps.

I rather cheated here and rather than getting out to fill the car myself someone gave me a hand, all I had to do was park, wind the window down and look cool calm and collected. The cool factor was somewhat marred by the fact that I bounced my head off the roof each time I looked over my left shoulder to chat.

I broke it! Planning is a wonderful thing, so are simple things like manuals and basic instructions. I hadn't received either as we were rather in a rush to set off. With a full tank of fuel I was ready to pull out the fuel station, a quick wiggle of the gear shift, clutch to the floor and turn the key and we're .. oh, nothing, no noise, no "ka-kuur, ka churrr, rattle, boing brum, brum BRUM!", nada. This is again where cars are just set out to defeat me. For some reason in US cars if you sit in the car with the key in the lock and the ignition off past a certain time period you have to depress the immobiliser keyfob again to unlock the ignition circuits. It's just an alien concept to me, and I can think of at this point in time is something along the lines of "...bugger me, 10miles on the clock and I've already broken it.".

Ed had his lovely black Esprit opposite me and advised me from across the forecourt that I needed to cycle the immobiliser as I'd been parked up for over 2 minutes that car had happily decided that it might be nicked and shut down the ignition electrics. I still maintain that the car didn't like me at that point so just did it to worry me more that day.

Well windows down we set off towards the canyon. I've turned the air conditioning off at this point. There's a good reason for this, as I had the sunroof locked up and couldn't pull it down easily with one hand while I was driving and felt that air conditioning most of Southern California as I drove might tax the engine somewhat. I'm not complaining though as with the window down I get a chance to rest my elbow to the left and listen to the engine revs as I drive. Rev counters do help for gear changes, but a lot of the dashboard is obscured from my vision, partially because of my polarising sunglasses and partially because the steering wheel is a little low for me.

Many drivers saw a blue flash going past them on the roads that day with the lights popping up and down randomly - don't worry chaps it was just a British guy trying to find the driving lights switch and only managing to find the passing/flash switch. I never did quite get that one figured out.

The Tahoe crew are up front leading the way, and a few miles out of town we took the opportunity to reorder the convoy of Loti with the leader pulling onto the shoulder or a parking spot for a second to let the rest of the crew past. As we rolled around the mountain road, and as Chris tried valiantly to stay seated in the back of the truck with the bags of photography equipment, he took several nice passing shots of us all (including some nice ones of a lady in some standard car that was ever so impressed that she'd overtaken us all). Admittedly there were a few shots of the rear roof pillars of the Tahoe taken too, but that was for artistic affect or something.

Sadly like all good trips it had to end sometime, and before I wanted to I was navigating Irvine's storm drains again making my way back to my home from home.

Memories: I shall fondly remember driving the Esprits, I had to haul some ass to beat my old land speed record that I set in my Ford Mondeo years ago (never did get air off the bridge on the way to Goodwood in that one).. well I say haul, 3rd gear was enough!

Whatever cars I end up driving and owning in the future the V8 Esprit "chiropractor" will long remain my favourite - it's the only car that through sheer acceleration managed to crack my passenger's spine back into place.

A huge thanks go to Jeremy for the 'loaner' and the memories.